


INSIDE the mind

by TheSeasonOfWinter



Category: INSIDE (Video Game)
Genre: Body Modification, Dystopia, Gen, Horror, Lots of Murder, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeasonOfWinter/pseuds/TheSeasonOfWinter
Summary: The game was left open ended with no context, so I made some context.Follow Bram throughout the game, and learn the what, where, and why of the world of INSIDESpoilers for the game inside.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on what the boy was doing in the game and why he was being chased.

Subject number 4  
Test group number Zeta  
Group name: Bram Stoker  
Status: unknown  
Abilities: highly active 

Missing: 14 days  
Last seen: transport truck 18, kennel 5, West Road, Grey Forest 

-

 

Dr. Hearth slammed his hand down on the desk, knocking the status paper off. Everyone in the room jumped, antsy and uneasy at his fury. Who ends up on what end of a scalpel could be changed depending on this outcome. 

“When was the last time we received signal from the tracker?” Dr. Hearth all but snarled at Dr. Jones. 

“ 13 days ago, s-sir.” Dr. Jones bit her lip, even more panicked by her stuttering. 

Dr. Hearth’s eyes narrowed at her. “Just how did we lose signal?”

“He must have c-cut it out, sir.”

The doctor stormed right into her space, and in from her face. “Cut it out with what?! If that thing gets in infection all the progress we made could be for nothing!”

He tore himself away from her, and Dr. Jones released a small breath. No one came forward to help her. 

Dr. Hearth ran his fingers through his hair, staring furiously out of the office window. “If he died that would be fine, the brain would still be there and we could work with that, but if it got sick.…”

The Bram Stoker group was forsaken, the hope for mind control or mesmerization all but dropped, but then the last of the last test group started showing promise. 

Number 4 could persuade his siblings quiet easily to do things for him, he could will animals to do what he wished, and his abilities grew stronger as he got older. 

The rest of the test group was eliminated to focus more on number 4, and 16 years went by without incident. He was starting to be able to control things, his will dominating others much to the approval of the doctors who were watching over him. He was just about the pride and joy of Innovation Industries, his ability usable and strong without side effects.

There were certain conditions that must be met for a successful control, like how he needed to usually be calm and still, staring plainly into the eyes of whoever was to be ordered. There was talk of hooking him up to one of the B-Wash control helmets, but Dr. Hearth refused to risk the exposer. There were downsides of course, like subject 4 getting nauseous and sometimes sick from mental exertion, but the child’s body didn’t fall apart and his brain remained between his ears and not on the floor. He also followed directions unlike a few of the labs other subjects.

Subject 4 of Bram Stoker was the epitome of success, and because of this success, Innovation was able to afford to begin their biggest project. One that would change the course of history and the the minds of humanity. Dr. Hearth almost calmed down just thinking about it; how wonderful it would be, how smart and strong. 

Subject 4 was on his way to the main lab to test his abilities on their nascent project when he disappeared. 

No one knows if he ran away or was kidnapped, all that they had was an empty kennel and a confused crew who didn’t remember anything from the encounter. 

Dr. Hearth had always like number 4, he was quiet and obedient. Never asked questions and never said no. But now Hearth was wondering if it was out of submissiveness to his creators or if it was from impression. News of another escaped project came to this lab about a month ago, the prized subject 27 of the Lamia group ran away to the depths of the nearby ocean. There was still a team down there looking for her, sending out subs everyday. When Hearth asked Jones about whether or not number 4 was told of this she said probably. 

Number 4 always seemed to find things out, but that shouldn’t be surprising. 

The fact that this was the second escape in two months left a bad taste in Dr. Hearth’s mouth. Their new project would be revealed soon, and he didn’t want to pitch it to a bunch of stockholders who were just going to wonder how long this one will stay around. 

Dr. Hearth turned back his employees, saw them trembling and one even crying in the back. Dr. Jones was pale and still, looking far too nervous for someone trying to be emotionless. 

“You,” Dr. hearth growled, “will find him, or you’ll all will come to intimately understand his position in life.”

Dr. Jones nodded stiffly. “You want him alive, I presume.”

Dr. Hearth gave a violent laugh, a disbelieving smile on his face. “It doesn’t really matter. Just get him back.”

He swept his hand over the remaining pagers on his desk, causing them to fall off. 

A picture of a boy with pale skin and brown hair staring blankly into the camera with dead grey eyes was on the top page, falling slowly until it rested on the floor. 

People stepped on it to get out of the room.


	2. The Forest

Bram slid faster than he thought he would and almost ended up falling face first on the forest floor from the ledge he was just on.

He released a startled cry, hands slapping onto the bottom of his face to stifle the sound. He could feel like hot breath on his palms and used that to calm himself down, breathing in and out slower as a few seconds went by.

He had been wandering for days, hiding in odd places and eating odd things. No one had found him yet, no one had even seen him. It was simply the face that for the first week, Bram sat under a small overhang of rock, knees tucked up to his chest, back against the fall end of the tiny cave. There was only one entrance and exit, directly in his line of sight. Bram had stayed there for about a week, the familiar feeling of the forced calm he comes under as his mind focused. 

Only two people had came in the cave, searching for him. They came about four days apart, the same as Bram asked kindly to be let off the truck. As soon as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they met Bram’s faded gray ones, and then it was over. Both men left, telling their comrades that no one was around, they should try Eagles cliff. They never remembered seeing him, and when Bram’s hunger was too strong for him to resist, he pulled himself out of his meditation and headed in the opposite direction.

He had technically only been resting and not actively using his ability over that time, so he wasn’t sick. Bram had been planning this for a while, he knew his limits and they were his secrets. 

Ever since he heard about the Lamia, ever since he asked why they were going to the main lab. 

Bram knew it had to stop. He knew he would be more lost than he’d ever been if they got him to the main lab. The thing that was waiting for him was going to take everything, and it all had to stop.

Bram had to end it.

He stumbled through the forest, walking slowly and tried to quiet his panting. 

Bram knew many things because he asked to know. The control means that he enters the mind of another for however long he could stand it, and riffled through their things. Bram learned about what families were, what cheesecake tasted like, and what an artist and a scientist was. He also learned what the scientists there thought of him and others.

Bram crossed a tree bridge.

He also learned that he was a person, and they didn’t think of him as one. Everyone else seemed to be a person but him, and it took Bram years to understand why. Took him years to understand no one could learn or understand like he could. He also learned that others could do things he wasn’t allowed to do, and he learned that he needed to leave.

So Bram left.

And now he had to go back because something was going to happen, and it couldn’t. Bram had to stop what Innovation was doing because people should be people and nothing else. No subject, no group name, they should be what they are. And Bram didn’t like how everyone tried to lie their way around it.

Bram slid under a abandoned traffick fence.

He was a person, he found out, and he would be treated like a person.

Lights suddenly bust through the calming darkness, hitting leaves and trees and it would have hit Bram if he hadn’t hid. His heart almost stopped as he heard a truck start up and depart. They were here, Bram thought, back scraping against the tree he was leaning on. They were here and they were looking for him, and Bram wanted to hide. He wanted to go away from all this.

His was distinctly aware that the place he wanted to go was ‘home’, but Bram had never had one. 

There was nothing to do but go.

So he went.

Bram didn’t get very far before running into more people. There were two men in a clearing next to some sort of pod. Bram crouched down behind some abandoned piece of metal, wincing when he heard a twig snap under his foot.

He didn’t dare look up, didn’t even breathe. He couldn’t control these guys, he wasn’t in the right mindset, so all he could do was hide and pray they wouldn’t find him.

A flashlight illuminated the space above him, swinging as the men searched. The lightly drifted off behind him, and Bram crawled forward to peek around the side. The two men were walking off in the other direction, and Bram moved quickly. He kept his crouch as he hurried past, head low, and not breathing. When he was a little ways away, he straightened up and started running.

Bram’s heart was beating painfully in his chest, hammering against his rib cage, but it lessened the farther away he got. Which proved to not be that far when he encountered some sort of concrete wall stretching out of sight in both directions.

He put his hands against it, feeling how solid it was, and quickly came to the conclusion that he would have to climb. Bram jumped, the edge just barely out of reach. He looked behind him, hoping those guys were still walking away.

There was no way to tell, and Bram wanted to get as far away from here as possible. He had to move and move now. 

There was a rusty fridge sitting nearby, one which he had ignored in favor of the wall, but if it’s empty . . .

Bram walked over and opened it. It was gutted, not even the little racks were inside. Bram pulled on it and it gave easily, falling on its side. A wide smile lit up he boy’s face as he pulled the fridge to the wall, climbing on it and over the obstruction easily.

The smile vanished however, when Bram discovered that the other side of the wall was road. He was higher up than he thought, and Bram tried to muffle the sound of him landing behind a divider. 

He landed flat on his butt, staying low to not be seen. He could hear them talking but couldn’t make out the words, just murmurs and a truck starting.

And a dog.

Oh god, they had a dog.

The company dogs were awful. They were genetically modified to be almost brain dead. A chip was implanted in their brain as puppies, so the guards only had to give a voice recognized command and the powerful killing machine would attack.

That also meant that Bram couldn’t do anything to them. Animals were usually so easy to understand, they minds just seeking kindness and food, but he always hated these dogs.

If they even still counted as dogs.

He needed to cross the street. There was another divider barely a foot away, but he would be out in the open if he crossed. There wasn’t a choice however, and Bram got to his feet, back still hunched over. He padded quietly and quickly to the other side. Bram didn’t even pause to see if he made it (if he was seen he’d have to run soon anyway). 

He crossed back into the forest, climbing uphill for a second, before reaching the edge of a small cliff. There was something at the bottom it seemed, and Bram didn’t hesitate to jump. The dog would smell him sooner or later, so he needed to move. 

He hit what seemed to be some sort of box, and the impact was loud enough to get the dog braking. Bram gasped and started to run again. Only he had to stop because there was another cliff to high for him to climb and without anything to grab on to.

Remembering the fridge, he went back for the box, climbing up. He tried to catch his breath a bit afterwards. 

“What kind of forest is this?” He muttered, his voice as usual rough. Bram didn’t talk much.

No one ever really wanted to talk to him anyway.

He could still hear the dog, so Bram got a move on, sliding down the steep edge of a hill. He couldn’t help but let out a small yelp when he hit water. It wasn’t deep, thank goodness, so he could stand up. It was so dark, he couldn’t even see it, but he could certainly feel it. Bram grunted as he started to shiver, his hands starting to shake from the temperature.

The clothes the lab gave him were the winter edition, long sleeves and pants, and the weather was finally here. He grimaced at the red shirt clinging to his skinny arms, his toes going numb in his wet shoes.

That’s when he noticed the faint lights to his right. Was that a car? Bram wasn’t sure, but he didn’t have time to waste. But it was so cold, he felt like it was more like moving through jelly than water. Bram grunted as he pushed through, taking long steps in hope of covering more ground, arms up out of the water. He tried to be quiet, but moving through water wasn’t a really silent task.

Bram was about halfway across when the light landed on him. His arms moved to try and block the sudden light, his breath catching in his throat as he heard shouts and barking. Bram freak when he realized he had frozen, frantically jerking through the water to get to the other side.

He heard running and a splash and more barking. 

Bram would not look back, he wouldn’t. He knew what it was, could smell it from here. The snarling was loud, choking on water sometimes, and Bram could only hope it felt the cold too. It was faster than him, he could hear it getting closer, and Bram started making leaps to try and pull himself forwards and free.

Bram’s feet met dry land about three seconds before the dogs, and that three second head start was all he needed. There was a cliff up ahead, and, ignoring the hot breath he could feel on his heels, Bram shot forward and took a flying leap to the other side.

He totally missed the edge and was terrified that he was going to make a small, bloody mark on the forest floor, but luckily he caught a tree root. He held on tight with his numb, trembling hands and took a second to breathe before starting to climb up. 

The thing was still barking at him when he made it to the top, rolling over onto land and staring at the canopy for a second, heart hammering and body cold. Oh, he was so cold. Bram wished he was in his room, # 324, and quickly pushed the thought away. Thinking like that will make him want to get caught, and he couldn’t. He had to move.

The dog started crying, and Bram sat up quickly to see that the truck was staring down the road, trying to cut him off. He leapt to his feet, ready to run again. He tore through the woods, his wet hair sticking to his forehead as the wind chilled him even more.

Bram broke free from the woods, running through a rocky meadow with some dark mass a little ways off. He felt like that might be far enough, might be the distance he needed. His breath struggled in his lungs and his arms and legs ached as he pushed.

Bright lights almost blindsided him, but they were coming up behind him on his right. Bram almost froze, but as the lights moved he realized they were from a truck with a spot light coming his way. 

He pumped his legs faster, desperate to stay out of sight. It’s too close already, they’re coming up behind him. Why couldn’t he catch a break?!

There was a drop off before him, and as Bram jumped he saw that is opened into a little cave. He dove behind it, falling flat on his stomach and ducking farther inside, the spotlight passing by where he once stood a second later. Bram was terrified that it would stop, and people would get out and search around on foot, but thankfully it just passed away.

Bram sat up, his wet body making it all the more easier for dirt to stick to him. He spat some out of his mouth and tried to push some off his face.

“How did this end up my life?” he muttered out loud, totally not bitter. “What sort of lot even is this?”

He sat for a second longer, he just wanted to slow down. After about two weeks of not seeing people and not moving very far, all of this was starting to take its toll. 

“Just gotta get up.” Bram breathed, pushing off the ground. “Just gotta get up and move.”

He broke into a jog to go deeper into the woods. He had asked where the city was before he left, and he sort of understood that he just had to follow the road in. But it was far, and it was dark, and he didn’t have a ton of information on the subject. Bram slowed as he saw lights in the distance. He trotted into a crouch, and tip toed farther, hoping to pass by unnoticed. 

He heard a car door slam.

“Hey!” A man’s voice called.

Bram shot off like a dart, seeing a handheld flashlight bouncing behind him as the driver ran in pursuit.

“Bram!” He called, catching up. “Bram, stop it!”

Bram pushed harder. No, he wouldn’t stop.

“Freeze!” He sounded angry. Or maybe he was upset? Bram couldn’t tell, he just plowed through a small creek, praying to outpace him.

“We’ve been authorized to kill you if you don’t comply!”

“Fuck you!” Bram yelled back, somehow still running ahead.

“What? Who taught you that - Wuh!” 

Bram could hear him fall, he must have tripped over something. Bram couldn’t help a little smile, whenever you’re in someone else’s mind, you can learn new vocabulary words. He ran be a small RV, all rusted and rotten, and he would’ve run right passed it if he hadn’t seen more headlights. Bram let out a small cry as he skidded and fell into a stop, left shoulder leaning against the RV as a truck drove by. He stood up and bounced on his heels, anxious to get moving, that other guy wouldn’t be far behind.

As soon as the lights disappeared in front of him, Bram started running again.

“Woah - WAIT!”

There had been another guy on the back of that pick up, and he jumped out to follow Bram. Bram could hear two sets of footsteps, so the other guy must be back in this twisted race. 

Bram narrowly avoids tripping over a branch. If they catch him, it’s over. There would be nothing he could do afterwards. They would sedate him and take him back, and he’d never have a chance again. They’ll probably kill him no matter what. Kill him and harvest his brain for science. Bram realized he was crying, desperate, fearful sobs escaping his throat as he ran.

“Bram!”

“Bram, Stop! Don’t you want to go home?”

Where is home? Bram’s never been. 

He suddenly felt air beneath his foot, and Bram fell, rolling down a steep side of a hill. Bram was able to get his feet back under him at the bottom, barely losing momentum as he ran.

In the distance he heard somebody cry, “Wait - NO!”

Gunshots. He could hear gunshots.

Oh god, they were shooting at him. 

They actually planned on killing him. Why did he feel betrayed? He knew that none of the people in his life actually cared, knew what he was to them, and yet, his heart was breaking. It was the only ‘family’ he had.

Bram cried, struggling to find air to do that and keep running. His legs hurt so bad. How long had he been running? He was so tired, he wanted to lie down, he wanted his room, and his bed. 

He wanted a home to go to. 

Bram semi-tripped over a twig, a distressed yell leaving his lips, and he heard them.

Barking, the dogs were back. 

They were getting closer, and there were multiple. 

Bram picked up the pace as much as he could, pushing his straining muscles, forcing his heart to pump more blood into them. The dogs were right behind him, their paws beating into the forest floor. He could imagine their dark, dead eyes watching him, tracking him, ready to kill as soon as they got the opportunity. He could imagine them tackling him down, biting and clawing and barking, breaking his neck and tearing his skin. He would die with their breath on his face. 

Bram was screaming, he knew it, but it felt so far away. Like it was someone else, and Bram was just there. It was like whenever he felt someone else’s memories. The forest was breaking apart up ahead, the night sky visible as Bram ran towards a dead end. 

It was a cliff. There was nowhere else to go.

Nowhere else to go but to Hell, and Bram didn’t think he wanted anyone but himself to send him there. So as he felt a dog try and snap at his ankle, Bram, without hesitation, jumped off the edge.

And fell. 

He fell far.

And landed with a splash into icy water. He sunk, astonishment and temperature causing his reaction to be delayed. His lungs started to burn, and Bram struggled to find which way would lead him back to the surface. He pushed forward and broke free of the water, droplets running down his face, and the starless sky gazing down from above, dropping rain on him as well.

The water was so deep and so cold, and Bram swam over to a pile of rocks to his right to hold on instead of treading water. They were too steep to climb up on, so he just clung there, breathing heavily as his panic failed to go away.

He couldn’t believe that he actually did that. He jumped off a cliff and expected to die and didn’t. Is this luck? Is that what it means to be lucky? He’d like more of it, please. Bram let out a slightly hysterical laugh, which cause his fingers to slip off the rock because of the rain. 

He flailed back to it, all humor gone. There had been a pool in the rec center of the lab. It was used for the employees who lived there and for some of the excitements who needed a physical or extra fitness. Bram frequently swam for exercise, but the pool wasn’t as deep as this lake. And it was so cold, he was already shivering, and it smelled awful. Like rotting meat; Bram wanted to gag.

He needed to move, always keep moving. Bram inched his way forward, stilling clinging to his lifeline, until he reached the end. Open water lay before him, but he could see the shore on the other side through the downpour, and it wasn’t too far. 

“Do you see him?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe he jumped.”

“Find him! Or his body at least!”

More search lights light up to his left. Never had Bram though he would hate light so much. They were doing to be scanning the surface for him, and if they could find him, they’d start dredging the lake. He would have to swim under the surface. 

Not wanting to lose his courage, Bram mourned his own life for a second before plunging under. 

The water was murky, and was full of garbage, debris floating around. It was at least thirty feet deep, and the more he moved in it, the less cold he felt. Some patches of light filtered through the muck, and Bram focused more on licking forward, his legs and arms aching. 

Just as he started to choke on lack of air, he felt the ground incline as he reached shore. Bram broke through with a gasp and started coughing, his body trying to rid itself of the water in his lungs. He dragged his shivering body out of the water, wheezing on all fours. The sense of injustice in his life was coming back as the rain pounded his wrecked frame. 

Bram’s eyesight stopped swimming (pun intended, god, he was so tired), and the first thing he noticed was the boby next to him. 

It should say something for how tired he was that he almost didn’t react. There were two pig carcasses lying on the shore next to him, pale pink bodies bloated and covered in grime, and mud, and flies. The buzzing of the flies was actually quiet loud, but Bram was to worn to really notice or care. 

He just jumped off a cliff into ice cold water and now he was laying by dead pigs. A week ago Dr. Jones talked about getting him a cupcake for his 17th birthday. Bram had never tried a cupcake before, he only knew what others thought of them.

They didn’t sound too appetizing now however, not with the stench of decay in his mouth.

Bram couldn’t afford to think about sweets though, it was time to leave. He slipped around in the mud as he got up, taking big steps uphill to cross the street. The guards were stills look in the water when Bram turned back. They probably couldn’t seen much of anything with the rain stirring up the surface, and this granted Bram some peace. They would be at this for a while.

Facing back to the west, a corn field lay sprawl in front of him, a shifting gray mass in the rain. A decent sized farm was on the other side, and the city branched out from behind that, looking dismole. Bram was getting closer, just had to keep moving.

Maybe that was the secret, he thought as he slid down the hill to the field. Maybe one just has to keep moving. 

There were already puddles on the ground, and Bram’s shoes sloshed as he lightly jogged. He climbed through the broken fence, and felt calm wash over him as he was surrounded by the corn stocks. He was completely covered, no on would be able to see him. Blessedly, Bram was able to just walk, taking a small respite from the intense run he just had. The rain made it hard to see, and the corn had to be pushed back in order to pass, but this was way better than the lake.

Maybe Bram was starting to hate water.

Bram couldn’t help but notice how wild the crop was. Different lengths and no rows at all in the formation.

“This must be abandoned.” He said out loud, feeling both sad and happy at the same time. Abandoned meant no one was here, but it also meant that whoever lived here was probably dead. A lot of people were dead now though. 

As he walked, Bram suddenly felt a shift under his feet. Stopping, Bram looked down to see a weird trap door hidden under moss and dirt. He bounced slightly on it, hearing a hollow sound underneath. Could it be a bomb shelter? A storage unit? Weird place for it if so. Bram shivered from the cold and kept walking.

He didn’t want to know.


	3. The Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram runs into more dangers at the farm, and he learns new things about the other experiments of Innovation Industries.

Little yellow balls were running at him through the corn. 

Almost too exhausted to feel fear, Bram stopped and watched as they circled him. Oh my god, they were chicks. They were little babies, and they chirped and ran in tiny dances around him. More were coming out, at least twenty, and Bram suddenly felt way better about his situation. He loved animals, and he had never even seen chicks before today.

Still safe by the cover of the corn, Bram stood still and allowed his consciousness to sink into himself. It was a gradual process; he had learned that if he went to quickly, he would end up falling and the impact would be hard, leaving him disoriented and stunned for at least thirty minutes afterwards. No, it was a calm descent, and once he reached the bottom, everything was available. 

Bram could feel multiple little minds around him, and he approached them slowly. Animals always needed to be approached slowly. They gladly came to meet him, no thoughts fluttering through, only emotions. 

Thoughts of hunger, and happiness, because the chicks liked people. The people were kind, and they hadn’t seen one in so long.

‘Would you like to follow me?’ It wasn’t as much of a question as it was a presented option. You couldn’t simply ask someone or something’s mind to tell you something, you have to present it as an option. An appealing option.

Surges of approval met him, and Bram smiled, pulling himself up out of his head and back into the real world. He started walking off, and he could still feel twenty-five simple, little minds follow after him, gladly keeping him company. 

Bram’s dark hair stuck to his forehead, and he pushed it aside to see the farm as he left the cornfield. It was definitely abandoned, the barn rusted and torn apart in some places, random pieces of metal strewn about and surprisingly enough, the lights were on. 

The problem was that a pile of dead pigs lay before him and the barn. There were a ton, maybe thirty total, lying in two piles in the mud, corpse thrown on top of corpse. It stunk pretty bad, and Bram felt like he could taste it. Maybe they all go sick? There were two pigs by the lake, so they made it pretty far if so.

Bram hoped whatever it was, it wasn’t contagious.

Little flashes of emotion burst along his mind, the chicks following him, some even going forward to the body pile. Feelings of familiarity and indifference, and it was only because of this that Bram was able to pass the carcasses by without too much hesitation. 

The barn door was locked, naturally, when he tried it, but thankfully there was a length of rope hanging down from an overhang on the second floor next to an open window. Bram grabbed hold and started pulling himself up, telling the little chicks he would let them inside and to not worry.

They worried anyways.

Bram had to swing a bit to make it to the open window, his heart stuttering a bit as he basically threw himself inside, but he was out of the rain now, so that was a plus. So far this farm was ten times better than the forest. It almost made him nervous.

The room inside was ripped apart and open to the first floor, the wooden boards broken and splinters and some were actually pretty water logged. There were dirty, broken windows that let in barely any light, but Bram almost had no reservation jumping down to the ground floor. Not that a lack of light really mattered because the entire back roof was gone. He could heard the chicks outside, and he quickly hefted the wooden latch up and opened the door, allowing a cheerful surge of yellow inside. They were happy to be dry too.

Bram let out a small giggle, for some reason feeling guilty for enjoying their physical presence and their mental reassurance. He felt like he wouldn’t have made it without leaning on the comfort of others somehow. 

In the main room of the barn was a solitary ceiling light that hung over a machine. There was a leaver and a engine next to it, and Bram gave them curious looks as he passed. He had never been to a barn before, and none of the minds available at the lab knew much about them. That thing could just be a bomb for all he knew. With his luck, it was a good guess.

There was a tall blockage on the other side, under the missing roof and Bram could see that it was the way out and through the farm, but it was too tall to reach. He tried anyway, jumping up and feeling his socks squish in his soaked shoes. The chicks milled around his feet, backing up at his efforts before coming right back to him. 

Well, Bram thought as he turned back to glance around the barn again, what was he supposed to do now?  
He then noticed that the light was obstructed by some sort of shelf with was appeared to be a small hay bale on it. Bram felt a little more hope as he walked under it, head tilted back to look at a way to bring it down, his chicks chittering just behind him. The machine had a tube facing it, and Bram wondered if that would help knock it down.

He went and pulled the lever, but nothing happened. He went to the engine and noticed that it had a small rope to crank like a lawn mower. He pumped it, and Bram hadn’t realized how quiet it had been until that thing roared to life. 

The chicks sent started messages to him, and Bram nodded, totally agreeing. His heart kind of hurt for the lurch it took just then.

The main body of the machine started moving, whirling and turning its gears, and Bram went back to the lever and pulled. Air flooded out of the tube, directly at the hay bale, and Bram felt a surge of victory. He waited, hoping to see the hay fall unto the floor so he could use it but it didn’t happen. Bram released the lever, the machine whirling down. This was working, it wasn’t strong enough.

Bram helplessly pulled the lever again, and a sharp thought of fear pierced his mind. He felt more than saw his body lost in the dark, not touching the ground, but pulled by an unseen force upwards before being shot out into the open air and impacting something rough but not hard.

He was pulled back into his own self in time to see a chick up on the banister by the hay bale. The chick was startled and scared but unhurt and it casually dropped back to the ground, instantly surrounded by Bram and its brothers and sisters.

Bram gazed at it for a while, an unwelcome idea in his mind. He thought about the new project at the main lab. He thought about his two weeks in the woods, and he thought about guns and dogs. Grimacing, and feeling unsure and horrid, Bram went to the lever and mentally directed the chicks to the machine. All of them compiled but the one that went flying. It started chirping in fear, and it flapped its baby wings, but none of the others noticed.

Once they were in position, Bram pulled the lever, and he watched them get sucked into another tube at the bottom. More shocked emotions of terror tore through him as twenty-four little minds all experienced the same thing at once. They all plowed into the hay bale, and Bram watched with no sense of accomplishment as it fell from its perch to the floor. 

Bram was hit with a strong sense of pain suddenly, causing him to flinch and cry out.

He released the lever, and the barn was quiet again except for the storm in his mind. There was confusion and pain, pain pain before it went away.

Bram only felt twenty-four minds total now. 

He walked forward to just underneath the shelf and looked at a still yellow body. It seems like it died from the impact but not on impact. It was alive just long enough to suffer. 

Bram’s mind was filled with confusion and betrayal that wasn’t his own, and he cut the connection as he silently grabbed hold of the hay, pushing it towards the back wall. Come of the chicks were still following him, and Bram was almost angry about how much he wanted to cry right now. He felt like scum and he felt hurt which wasn’t fair because he did the hurting.

One should never stay connected to a mind that was dead or dying, it did things to you. Bram was just lucky that it was only a chick and not a person. He would have been gone as dead too. 

That didn’t make him feel any better though.

The hay was perfect to climb on, and Bram was able to reach the top of the wall no problem. He didn’t look down at the chicks now, even though he could still hear them. He just silently walked back into the rain towards a ladder that was leaning on the butchered barn’s main frame. He climbed onto the roof, patch work and rotten though it was, and didn’t look still. The rain chilled him again, clothes not even dry, and he continued to walk forward.

He reached the end of the roof. The only way down was a direct jump off.

Onto a pile of pig bodied stacked in a wagon. 

Bram stood for a second, hesitating not out of the fear he could feel but more out of the fact that this seemed like his just desserts right now.

He jumped and landed hard on the pile of flesh. His breath was knocked out and so was one of the bodies, and Bram could only lay there for a second, in the stink, and try to breathe. His hands hurt from the impact and his whole body felt sore from the entire day, but Bram didn’t want to really recuperate in a stack of dead things. He rolled out into the mud, very thankful that he landed on his feet when he saw the writhing mass of worms under the wagon.

Bram ran his hands over his body, grossed out and feeling a crawling sensation where there was nothing. He shivered at both the cold and in disgust as he walked away. 

There was another.

Damn.

Fence.

It was too tall, and the only thing that was available to climb on was . . .

Oh, come on. This isn’t fair.

Bram could feel bile rising in his throat, hanging there like it was ready to act at a moments notice. His shaking hands wrapped around the wagons handles and he pulled it to the fence. More worms and what was probably shit, but we’re just going to say it was dirt, fell to the ground. Bram tried not to think about it as he climb up the bodies, feeling them give a bit under his hands, and over the top of the fence. 

It didn’t go back to the ground though, there was a little wooden roof for him to walk on, and Bram power walked away, not wanting to be near that at all.

It sloped back into water looked like more mud, and there were worms swirling around down there too. The bile surge in Bram’s throat, and he actually threw up over the side, the vomit plopping down atop some worms. The sight almost made him puke again.

He tipped his head back and caught some of the rain in his mouth, rinsing and spitting and repeating to get rid of the taste. The taste of puke did not go with the smell of decay and feces. Or maybe they went together perfectly, and that was the problem. Steeling himself, he slid down, shoes sinking into the mud, the white worms waving at him.

Bram started moving as fast his he could, the dirty water thick and getting deeper. His shoes stuck into the muck on the bottom and he was forced to take large steps, yanking his feet free each time. It was still raining, and Bram was so tired of it. He was tired of a lot of things.

Bram trudged through until he reached another chain link fence. He climbed up and over into the mud. Again. 

Bram ended up doing little hops until he reached dry (kinda) land, two more bodies of pigs laying haphazardly on shore. One even had a worm writhing out of its ass, and Bram could feel the urge to vomit again. He walked passed quickly to the building in front of him, hoping to just leave the pigs behind but a loud squeal erupted through the sound of rain.

Bram whirled around and stared at one dirty, emaciated pig who apparently wasn’t dead struggle to its feet. It shook its head and cried again, and Bram thought maybe he could try to connect with it.

Only then it charged, and Bram suddenly became aware of how big that thing was.

Bram’s feet slid as he scrambled away, the pig following him and easily catching up. In a last ditch effort, Bram jumped at it, hoping to pass over. He rolled of the things boney back and landed right behind it. The pig couldn’t stop itself in time and ended up running through a crumbling wall of the building right before it. 

Bram hurriedly ran after it, wondering it the impact had killed it, but the pig was already running back at him, determined to run him over. Pulling the same trick, Bram rolled over the animal’s back and ran, but it was a dead end on the opposite side, just a dark iron wall. 

The pig’s squeals became louder the closer it got, and Bram jumped one last time, and the pig ended up running straight into metal. Bram braced himself to run again, but it didn’t get up this time, only laid there, huffing and crying, the worm still alive inside of it.

Bram debated whether or not he should try to connect to it. Pity won out in the end, Bram couldn’t stand hearing it moan in pain. He sunk into himself, going faster than was probably safe, but time felt of the essence.

Once at the bottom, Bram felt the pulsating agony coming from the mind before him. Pigs were way smarter than chicks, so the communication was easier. Brushing the edge slowly, Bram reached out. The pig mentally latched on, sending its pain through to Bram. It was pain, his skin hurt, his stomach hurt, his legs hurt, and he was so cold, he was so hungry, he wanted to die, he didn’t want to die, he wanted it out, he wanted it out, he wanted it out!

Bram wasn’t aware he had grabbed the worm until he started pulling and the pain intensified. The pig screamed, and Bram did too but he didn’t let go. Bram fell backwards as the worm popped free with a sickening noise, shit flying everywhere. He let go of it as fast as he could, watching the white form soar and splat on the ground. The pain was still there but it was manageable now. The pig was exhausted, and slumped a bit in its spot, sending fervent gratitude to Bram, who gave it a small pet. He also did it to get the feces off his hands, but Bram tried not to think about it. He was suddenly aware that he had thrown up not long ago, and fought to keep bile down again. 

He backed away from the pig and glanced around the room. It was big, will a tall ceiling, and naturally, it was falling apart. There was almost no way to move forward either. Bram frowned as he explored, noticing there was some light that filtered through from the concave ceiling. Light that illuminated a hunched over body to his right.

Bram released a cry of fear as he stumbled away from it, but the figure remained still as if dead. A closer look showed grey skin under a dirty white shirt. Bram didn’t need to be told what that was. 

B-Washs were created about twenty years ago, the thought of controlling the dead to do manual labor seeming revolutionary, but it changed over the years. B-Washs now were criminals, or anyone unlucky enough to be poor and at the wrong place at the wrong time. Certain search robots were even made to go out and harvest people, usually standing guard over restricted areas and nabbing anyone who falls in their spotlight. Bram had only seen about four of these guys, stumbling and strong, working on the bathroom whenever the plumbing got backed up in lab room 6. 

They were still making new models, and Innovation was very careful about keeping them wiped and docile. Bram saw two more in a cage near the front. He never understood the cages, these guys wouldn’t go anywhere unless ordered too. Bram looked around the room again, wondering if someone had abandoned the headset used to control the B-Washs, he might get them to pull on some loose scaffolding or something . . .

The whole thing about not mentally connecting to dead things is okay with that thing on, cause regular humans do it all the time. Bram would never use his abilities on them.

He didn’t know which one’s were alive and which ones weren’t.

Walking a little bit forwards, Bram saw the headset, hanging from the ceiling. It looked a bit like a lamp, light up with a ring or glowing orbs, and, like everything in his life, it was too far out of reach.

“What the actually hell?” Bram muttered, jumping up, trying to reach it. “I’m 5’9, that’s not even short . . .”

“Use me.”

Bram started a bit at the thought. He turned around slowly, the pig still lying by the wall, side rising and falling rapidly with its struggled breaths. Bram took a step forward. 

Okay, he knew that pigs were smart, but he didn’t know they were like . . . language smart. Or maybe it was his brain interpreting it as language, who knew for sure. The doctors certainly never tested this, Bram mostly worked with cats.

“Pull me over there. You’ll be able to reach.”

Bram walked all the way over, kneeling by the pig, resting his hand on its side.

“You can’t walk over?”

The pig gave a small huff. 

“Too tired. Pull.”

Bram did as told, grabbing hold and pulling as gently as he could. The pig got up and stumbled a bit backwards, allowing Bram to guide it just under the headset. Bram gave it some time to rest, hearing it breathe heavily, and feeling the ache in its bones.

“Climb.”

Bram hesitated, and the pig snorted impatiently. He climbed on as gently as he could, but it was still to far out of reach. His heart twisted as he looked down at the pig.

“I’ll have to jump.”

The pig shuddered a bit, and Bram could feel irritation swelling up inside the creature.

“Then jump, idiot. Don’t even know why you want up there in the first place, this is what I get for trying to help a human -”

Okay, this had to be Bram’s brain trying to make sense of the pig. No way did it know the word idiot. He jumped, skull pulled into the headset, and Bram fell.

Not physically, but mentally, he tumbled and dropped, and he knew this was too fast, he won’t be able to handle the impact, this was too fast -

Something caught him at the bottom.

Oh, Bram thought in awe. That’s what the headset did, it was a safety net for the control drop. What usually took Bram five minutes to do on his own only took a second with this thing. However, Bram wanted to give himself credit for being the only person alive who could do it on their own and with any mind. This was actually kind of limited for him.

The premise was the same though, and Bram could feel four extra minds with this. There were two in the cage, one on the second floor, and one out with him. He was also distinctly aware of the pig, but that was different. The pig’s mind, although hazy, was complex and separate from Bram’s own. With this headset, Bram could tug and actually force the B-Washs to do whatever he wanted. Their minds were actually more simple than the chicks!

But, Bram discovered while digging around a bit, these guys weren’t individuals. They were all but brain dead, motor functions still perfectly fine, but anything that made up a person was gone. Even though Bram owed everything to Innovation Industries, he had never hated more than he did now. 

It didn’t matter right now though. The whole point of this was to stop them, to destroy whatever monstrosity they made, and to remind them that experiments were people. That the B-Washs were people too, once. He needed to get to the main lab first though.

The controls were easy enough, Bram just had to mimic the action he wanted. He walked and the others walked in whatever direction he chose. He made a lifting motion, and the cage door was pushed up and open. All four of them were able to follow Bram’s command to pull on a scaffold, sending support beams and bits of room tumbling down onto the wall Bram couldn’t get over. They made a perfect little bridge for him, and Bram was disturbed by how easy they were to direct. He dropped out of the headset, landing on the pig who screamed and they both went to the ground.

Bram rubbed the pig’s ear and looked over at the B-Washs; they were all on their knees, hunched over, existence meaningless without orders, and Bram felt sick again. 

“Is it over?”

Bram kept petting the pig, feeling the grime move under the soft palm of his hand.  
“Yes, I’m done now.’

The pig snorted and nosed at his pant leg.

“You will go now?”

“Yes. Will you come?” Bram would be lying of he said he didn’t feel somewhat hopeful.

“No. I rest now. No more.”

Bram was disappointed but not surprised. 

“Goodbye. Thank you.”

“Goodbye, human.”

He got up, wiping the dirt on his pants, and walked towards the broken bridge he made. He walked up it, looking back at the pig’s battered grey body, and then over at the crumpled forms of the B-Washs. Innovation was wrong, and what they do it wrong. 

Another thing Bram knew. 

He climbed over the large barricade, jumping down into what looked like some sort of storage unit. He pushed up on the door, and it thankfully went up without much effort. That had been the first easy thing he’s done on the stupid farm. Bram jumped through it, back outside.

The sun was shining, the rain had stopped. The walls of the city lay before him, and Bram could see a truck loading B-Washs up.

Bram only waited for a minute before walking towards it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end chapter 3


End file.
